Back to school anxiety . . . for me

I spent part of Saturday looking through the elementary school curriculum for B’s new school (which is helpfully supplied online).  I had finished reading through the list of things which we need to bring to school and filling out the pile of forms required before school starts (emergency contacts, health history, school lunch forms, payment information, authorization for the administration of Potassium Iodide — gotta love life in Austria), and I thought I would take a quick look at what they’re actually going to be working on and trying to achieve this year.

First, let me say that I think teachers are AWESOME.  And I mean that literally — I am in awe of them.  Looking at this 134 page book on the elementary school curriculum, and realising that each teacher is basically trying to teach 1/7 of that book (the book covered pre-school, kindergarten and grades 1-5) to 30 whole kids every year was overwhelming.  *I* was overwhelmed, reading it, and I only have ONE kid to worry about.  I have no idea how they manage to teach all of that, plus have snack time, recess, lunch time, field trips, play time and so on . . . plus they deal with sick kids, field questions from parents and do 100 other things that I haven’t even thought of.  I don’t know how they do it.  (And this is at a well-funded private school with small class sizes.)

As parents do, I read the long list of tasks and goals for the year with Benjamin in mind (and, to a lesser extent, Liam — he’s not attending this school this year, but I’m keeping an eye on what they would be expecting of him at this school if he were going there).  I started with the language section, which includes reading, writing, speaking, information collection and use of technology.  These include some of the areas where I’m the most concerned about B keeping up with his class.  I don’t really have an idea of exactly what’s expected for entrants into first grade at this school, but compared to my friends’ kids of the same age in the US, he’s behind.  He’s not reading yet, his writing has only extended to single, capital letters (plus his name).  Most importantly, he doesn’t like working on reading or writing at this point.  I imagine that reading will sort itself out in the near future (I think that once he’s able to read, he’ll discover the joy of reading, and he’ll be off to the races), but I worry about it being a bit of an uphill battle, especially if he’s behind the curve.  (I don’t actually know that he is, though.  His school seems confident about his placement.)  So, I worry.

And then I took a look at the math curriculum.  In math, I’m not worried about him being behind.  I’ve always felt like this was a strong skill for him, but I didn’t have much idea of what’s typical for a kid his age.  But, he won’t be behind (he’s taught himself most of the skills through 2nd grade in the curriculum already).  (And, looking at the kindergarten chart, it looks like Liam’s ahead in math, too.)  And, that’s great.  But though I would have thought that I would be able to feel great about that, I’m surprised to find that I’m nearly as anxious about the areas he’s way ahead on as I am about the stuff he might be “behind” on.  Because, though I’m very impressed that he can add double digit numbers, and that’ he’s starting to do multiplication, now I worry about the challenge of keeping an exceptionally bright math brain (there, I said it) engaged and interested when he’s so far ahead.

I know I’m getting ahead of myself.  School hasn’t even started yet.  And, I expect to find that the teachers (who, as I’ve previously stated, are akin to super heroes in my eyes) have lots of experience and good strategies, for helping him with the stuff he needs to work on, and keeping him happy about the stuff he’s great at.  But, staring into the face of our first year of “real” school, this mom is feeling just a little intimidated by the magnitude of the tasks ahead.

The end of the school year . . . and the end of preschool for B

20140627-165102-60662588.jpgYesterday was the last day of school for my boys this year.  For B, it was his last day at this school entirely, and his last day of preschool.  For Liam, it was the last day of his very first year of school.  A big day for both boys!  Actually, a big day for all of us.

Next year, B will move on to elementary school.  He goes right from half-day preschool/kindergarten to full day first grade.  That’s going to be a big change, but he’s excited about it (and, therefore, so am I).  Mostly, I think he is beyond excited that his school next year will be in English and that he’ll be able to express himself really well.  (He’s also looking forward to learning more math.)  Liam will get to come back to his same class and teachers and friends next year . . . which also means we don’t have to completely say goodbye to any of the teachers at the school.  (I already have plans to stop by B’s old class next fall to pick up some pictures.)

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20140627-165102-60662064.jpgIt’s been a busy week — lots to fit in before the end of the year.  B’s class celebrated his birthday with him on Tuesday.  I’m so grateful that he got to do that one more time before leaving this school.

And B commemorated the occasion of the end of preschool by losing his first baby tooth the night before his last day.  (Just in case there was any question about how grown up he really is getting to be.)

Now we’re on our summer “vacation”.  (I say “vacation” because summer means having both boys home, which is wonderful, but not exactly restful.)  It has been a long (but very good) preschool journey for B, a great first year for Liam, and a busy week for all of us.  Now it’s time to enjoy the summer!

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Summer schedule

Most of my time as a parent has been spent either feeling overwhelmed, trying to figure out how to get a handle on things or being pretty certain I’m screwing everything up.  (I do other stuff, too, that’s just in the background.)  This is a part of parenting that I didn’t anticipate before I became a mom.  I knew that the early days with a new baby would be hard (though I didn’t know how hard), but I didn’t know that I would never really get things “figured out” — that I would never get past feeling like a rookie at something I’d been doing for years.  The thing is, this game is constantly changing.  Every time I emerge from the tunnel of confusion brought on by new schedules, preferences, temperaments, questions, developmental stages, personality changes, and just life in general, I get knocked sideways by a whole new, different set of circumstances that requires a completely new approach.  I’m always behind the curve because the rules are always changing.  That’s just how it is.  Although it’s tough, the upside is the knowledge that however hard a particular stage as a parent is, it will be over soon.  The downside is that when things are finally smooth, they’re guaranteed not to stay that way for long.

We’ve been in a surprisingly long period of stability around here recently.  Liam has mostly adjusted to school, outgrown his phase of night terrors (more or less — he no longer gets them every night) and it has become almost possible to reason with him sometimes.  B has gotten the potty thing mastered, and has gained a surprising amount of independence lately.  Most of the time, a family outing no longer requires a stroller, and dinners don’t always end with something being thrown, worn, or dumped on the floor.  We’re able to brush teeth at night without major fits (occasionally) and the boys require only constant reminders (and not being chased through the house) to get ready for school.  Things have been pretty easy around here for a little while (and by “a little while”, I mean since sometime after Easter).

So, of course, everything is about to change.  Today is the first day of the last week of B’s time in preschool.  Starting on Friday, I’ll have the boys home until August.  And when they do go back to school, Liam will go back to this same school, while B starts at a new school.  In the meantime, B, who still takes an afternoon nap most days, needs to get used to not having one, because he starts full-day school in August.  But Liam, who turns into Mr. Hyde if he doesn’t nap (and whose night terrors come back if he sleeps too soundly at night, which is well mitigated by not going to bed over tired), still needs a daily nap.  And, their shared nap time has historically been when I get a lot of stuff done every day … like writing this blog … so that’s going to require some rethinking.  (And, as demonstrated by the fact that I’m still blogging about last year’s summer vacation, taking an extended blogging break doesn’t work too well for me.)

So, later this week, everything changes.  (Again.)  We’ll go on vacation for a bit, come home, and sort out a summer schedule for the 6 weeks before school starts up again.  I’ll convince Liam to nap even though B won’t be, keep B quiet but busy so I can get a little done around the house and sort out an hour or so each day to find time to work on this blog.  It might be a challenge, but, in exchange, I get to have my guys home every day for a few months, and that’s going to be great.  It’ll be a bit overwhelming, but I’ll get it sorted out.  It always is, and I always do.

Graduation

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It began like this.  And, in less than 2 weeks, it will end.  B’s time in preschool (Kindergarten) has taken him from crying, timid and not wanting to participate to happy, enthusiastic, and the best German speaker in our family.  We have had a wonderful experience with his school and teachers, and I will be very sorry to see his time there end.

20140613-090052-32452486.jpgThis week, to celebrate the end of the school year (unofficially — since it’s a preschool, it’s open year-round) and the passage of the Vorschulekinder (preschoolers) on to elementary school, B’s class had a big party.  Each of the graduating kids got to stand up in front of the class and receive a Schultüte — which is a big paper cone full of fun and practical stuff.  In this case, the teachers made and decorated the cones themselves.  Inside, they included sweets and useful things for school next year — new markers, pencils, colored pencils, and a new pencil sharpener.  And then they all went out for ice cream (B had strawberry).

20140613-085942-32382890.jpgB was so proud of his Schultüte, and so proud of himself.  He carried it all the way home, and opened it in complete delight.  (Poor Liam had a little breakdown — it’s so hard to be the little brother, especially when the big brother gets something cool and you don’t.  B shared a little of his candy, but it still was tough.)

But perhaps the best part of the graduation celebration came in a little bunch of paper, loosely and precariously attached together.  In it, the teachers had compiled a scrapbook — of Benjamin’s time at school, of his writing practices and art projects.  There were drawings, painted handprints, and pictures from field trips.  Just regular preschool stuff, but all collected together.  They had been keeping some of these things from the very beginning of his time there.

20140613-090052-32452882.jpgI think teachers are generally amazing.  While I sometimes struggle to manage just my two, the teachers at my boys’ school (and all teachers, everywhere) manage 10 times that many, with a patience and authority I sincerely admire.  They have reinforced polite manners, practiced taking turns, taken them on adventures and kissed their boo-boos.  They’ve helped see us through potty training, introduced our whole family holidays and traditions we’ve never seen before, and taught B an entirely new language.  And they have done it all with a tremendous amount of love.  The book they put together for him was further evidence of that love.  It is an amazing gift.

B will go on next year to elementary school.  But I don’t think he could have been given a better start than he got at this school.  He has been fortunate to have had some wonderful teachers.  I feel lucky that Liam will still be at this school, so we don’t really have to say goodbye quite yet.

Unfall

Last Wednesday, the kids were finally better.  They’d taken turns over the past week being sick with “Hand, foot and mouth disease” — high fevers, low energy, general malaise.  Liam woke up at 1:00 a.m. on Friday with a fever of 102 which went up and stayed up for almost 24 hours.  He gradually got better and was finally fever free on Sunday.  B woke up at 11:00 Sunday night with his own high fever (though his didn’t last as long).  Liam went back to school on Tuesday, and B joined him Wednesday.  It was my first morning on my own in a few days, and Dan offered to take the boys in to school so I could have a little extra time to run and then start to reclaim order in the household after several days of prioritizing other things.

I made it through breakfast.  I had just finished eating and had gone to change my clothes for a run when my phone rang.  It was the school.  I immediately sighed, assuming one of the kids (probably B) had gotten his fever back and needed to be picked up.  So much for reclaiming order in the house.

Instead, it was Liam’s teacher.  Liam had had an “accident” and was going to the hospital.  She spoke in English, but it took me a moment to process what she’d said . I could hear Liam screaming in the background.  I started to panic and shake a little as she explained that he’d been pushed by another child and had hit his face on the bathroom sink, splitting his lip.  She said it wasn’t “serious”, but I figured it was serious ENOUGH if they were headed to the hospital.  I tried to parse her heavily accented English well enough to write down the hospital’s name and her cell number so we could stay in touch.

Up until that day, I’d only been familiar with two hospitals in Vienna, and this wasn’t either of those.  I called Dan (who, at work, was much closer to where we were headed) and tried to figure out where we were going.  I threw on some clothes and left to get a cab.  Never have I so wished we had our own car.

After a brief debate with the cabbie (in German) over where I was going (the teacher had given me mildly conflicting information), I was off.  In morning rush hour traffic, it took me an agonizingly long time to get there.  Dan arrived first … but couldn’t find them.  (He was initially sent to the children’s department.  We eventually ended up at the accident department … which is not the same as the emergency department.  We’re still struggling to sort out which kinds of things belong in which.)

045We found Liam and his teacher.  He had split his lip inside and out pretty badly and was wearing a fair bit of his own blood.  His teacher, who later admitted she couldn’t stand the sight of blood, had taken good care of him.

Liam’s teacher had given him a teddy bear to hold before they left the school for the ER. It was for him to cuddle on the way.  He wanted nothing to do with it.  (He has since softened his position.)  When I asked him about it, he said, “I asked for my mom and dad, and she gave me the bear.  I didn’t want the bear.  I wanted you.”  My poor guy.

We went back to be seen very shortly.  But unlike our other hospital experiences in Vienna, at the more centrally located hospitals, the nurses here spoke no English.  Not a bit.  We did fine at the beginning, because Liam’s teacher helped with translating, but eventually they said she and Dan had to step out and I was left to manage on my own.  They took a pretty quick look at it (reopening the wound in the process) . . . and decided that it didn’t need any treatment.  I was so prepared for him to get stitches (or at least that glue that Benjamin got when he hurt his chin a few years ago) that I was absolutely sure I’d misheard them.  But no, no treatment.

It took a while for me to understand what the nurse was explaining in terms of home care.  “Nothing hot, nothing spicy, nothing salty.”  I manged all of that.  But she kept saying something else that I just could not understand.  She finally tried “Like Wiener Schnitzel!” and I realized she’d been saying “nothing with crumbs”.  “It will be fine”, she told me.  “It won’t be his only accident!”  So, in a little bit of disbelief and with a still-bleeding Liam, I went home.  (We took the train.  We should have taken another cab.  I certainly felt odd . . . and very conspicuous . . . carrying an obviously injured and still bleeding child on the subway.)

055I wasn’t convinced, though, that everything was ok.  Although the doctors and nurses at the hospital seemed very kind and quite certain about their advice, I wasn’t so sure.  Things are just so different here, and I really longed for American medical practitioners.  In general, I’ve really enjoyed the difference in Austrian beauty standards.  I like that there is much less emphasis on physical perfection here.  There is less plastic surgery, less makeup, and less of a fight against the aging process.  But, on the other hand, you do see more people with obvious scars and physical impairments.  Which is fine . . . until I was contemplating the consequences for MY child.  Medical care here is excellent.  The standards of care and medical education are very high.  I just didn’t trust the Austrian aesthetic opinion of “It’s going to be fine.”  By what standard?  I was really, really, wishing I could be back in good, old, superficial, perfection-minded America, where if an ER pediatrician said, “It’ll be fine”, I’d know, more or less, what that meant.  Here, I didn’t feel like I knew, and I didn’t know if their “fine” would really be good enough.

So, we consulted our pediatrician.  She’s an American/Austrian with two small kids of her own.  She looked at the pictures we sent her by text, and agreed that it didn’t need treatment.  When she said that if it were her kids, she wouldn’t stitch it, I felt sufficiently convinced.

And, I have to say that we’ve been pleasantly surprised, bordering on shocked, actually, at how well and how quickly he has healed.  The ER gave him clearance to go back to school the next day, but I kept him home the rest of last week (out of an abundance of caution, and because I was worried he’d reopen or reinjure himself playing with the other kids again).  It’s a week later, and looking at him now, it is so much better.  The interior part of his mouth is completely healed (that actually only took about 48 hours, which was amazing, given the original injury).  The outside is still healing, but it’s no longer an impressive wound.  Our pediatrician said she expected it to heal without a scar, and I think it’s going to turn out that she’s completely right.  He looks great.

So, all’s well that ends well.  But this stuff is hard.  THIS is the really, truly hard stuff about living abroad.  Not just not knowing where to go when your kid gets hurt.  Not just not being able to communicate well enough to find him right away at the hospital.  Not just having to resort to creative explanations to understand how best to take care of him.  But fundamentally, basically being outside of what you know and expect and take for granted.  Not being able to trust the answers you get because the people you’re talking to are speaking from a completely different frame of reference.  Any urgent trip to the ER with a child is stressful and scary, no question.  But this is a whole different ballgame.  These are the moments I most wish I could teleport back home.

Family picnic

I’ve been absent from writing on the blog for about two weeks.  We’ve had a couple of busy weeks here with illnesses for the kids (both boys had a round of “Hand, foot and mouth disease” which lasted several miserable days apiece) and then, the very first day in over a week that we’d managed to get both kids to school, Liam had an accident at school which resulted in him being rushed to the emergency room by his teacher (more on that later, but the upshot is that he’ll be fine . . . but he did have to stay home and recover for the rest of last week).  Today was the first day in quite a while that was more or less “normal”.

003Last week, after Liam’s bout of illness, in the middle of Benjamin’s, and before Liam’s injury, Liam’s class held their end of the year family party, kind of like B’s class had done a few weeks before.  B was, sadly, too sick to go (he had just gotten past the 103+ degree fever phase of the illness, but was pretty distraught at having to miss out).  One of us needed to stay home with him, so only one of us could go to the party with Liam.  I took Liam to his party while B & Dan stayed home.

Over our three years at this school, we’ve gotten used to a pretty typical pattern of end-of-the-year family activities.  The first year, the whole school participated in a water-themed party (made slightly more complicated by the pouring rain that day).  Last year, the whole school got together for a carnival-themed party in the garden.  This year, each class held their own celebration, rather than holding one school-wide family day.  006But where the previous parties, and B’s year-end celebration, had been very planned and orchestrated, Liam’s was really laid back.  There was no program or schedule.  There was just an hour and a half of free time to play in the garden and eat desserts the kids had made (Liam missed out on actually making the desserts because he’d been sick).  There was nothing to “do”, just time to play.

At first, I thought we were just waiting to get started, but once I figured it out, we had a great time.  Liam *loved* getting to show me around the playground.  He loved getting to play with his friends AND with me at the same time.  And I loved it, too.  I pushed him on the swings and watched him play on the slide.  We ate cake together and drew pictures with chalk.  We had a lovely time.  And, when the rain started, we headed home.  It was a quiet party, but a very nice day.

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My day with Liam

Towards the end of the school year, when most of the formal work has been completed, the weather outside is beautiful, and the kids can barely be contained with their enthusiasm to run and play, the kids’ school days become peppered with outings and parties.  There are short jaunts out to the neighborhood playgrounds, trips out for ice cream, and big, full-day excursions around Vienna to celebrate the end of the year.  The kids have a fantastic time and come home thoroughly exhausted from running, playing, hiking, picnicking, riding on trains and splashing in ponds.  Yesterday was one of those “big” trips for Benjamin’s class.  We had to drop him off early and he didn’t get picked up until 4:00 in the afternoon.

Liam, though, had a normal school day (albeit with a trip to the green Prater to run in the grass), so I picked him up at the usual time of noon.  That left us with an entire afternoon, just the two of us, which I’d been looking forward to for a few weeks.  (And then, next week, when Liam has a full-day field trip, B and I will get a whole afternoon together, too!)

20140523-163316-59596854.jpgAt first he was worried about B, and he wanted us to wait around at the school until he got back.  But he got used to the idea, and pretty excited.   I gave him the choice of choosing anywhere and anything for lunch . . . and he decided to go to the grocery store and choose his own cereal and a set of stickers for himself and one for B.

We went home, had a cereal picnic on the living room floor while watching Team Umizoomi, and then he took a nap.  I’d been planning to do something fun and out of the ordinary — like a pre-nap trip to the playground — but his earlier trip out with his class (he was affronted that the teachers put sunscreen on him, because that’s apparently only my job) pretty much wore him out.

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It wasn’t until we were most of the way through our day that it occurred to me that this will be the pattern of most of our days, starting in the fall.  B will be at school all day, I will pick Liam up mid-day, and we’ll spend the afternoon together.  I hadn’t really thought about that part of things before — I think I’ve been so focused on Benjamin’s experience next year, because it will be new, and because it required a lot of action on our part to get it to happen, that I never really thought much about how things are going to change for the rest of us.  I really enjoyed my quiet day with Liam.  It is so much easier to talk to and connect with the kids when we’re one-on-one.  Nobody has to take turns talking, compromise on TV shows, or play alone while I play with the other one.  But, even so, I think we’re going to miss B in the afternoons an awful lot starting in the fall.

Summer vacation plans

I talk a lot about how great our experience has been with our preschool here in Vienna.  I think we got exceptionally lucky when we signed B up for school that first year.  We didn’t yet know where we’d be living, so we requested a place near Dan’s work (which has turned out to be far less convenient than we imagined it would be) but the 40 minute commute each way is completely worth the level of instruction and kindness the kids have received at their school.  Vienna runs many preschools throughout the city, all free or at very low cost (if the kids eat meals at school, there is a charge), and all run on the Montessori model (more or less — we’ve heard that this varies greatly).  It’s pretty much the Shangri-La of preschools around here.  Putting our kids into preschools of this caliber most likely would not have been possible for us in the US — and certainly not without me going back to work.  We’re incredibly grateful for the opportunity that we’ve had here in terms of the kids and school.

But then … we have some interesting situations pop up, that I don’t think we ever would have encountered back at home.

Late last month, the teachers sent home the annual summer vacation forms.  The idea is for parents to fill them out to let the school know which weeks the kids will be at school or on vacation so that they can plan staffing for the summer months when many families are away.  Makes sense, especially given that vacations here in the summer are almost always at least 2 weeks long, and often as much as 6-8 weeks.  We know quite a few people who leave Vienna in late June and don’t come back until late August.

We’d been thinking that we would probably be home in the US (permanently) by summer vacation time this year, so we hadn’t given our summer plans a lot of thought (even though it’s becoming increasingly likely that we’ll be here for a while yet).  Getting the vacation form was a bit of a wake up call that we needed to plan for a summer still spent in Austria.  So, we sat down, came up with a rough idea, and returned our forms to the school.  Our plan was to take a few weeks of vacation in July (to see some of Austria that we haven’t yet seen … and to see some of our favorite parts again), then to send the kids to school for a few weeks mid-summer (to give me some summer time without the kids to enjoy Vienna, to keep them from getting entirely out of the habit of going to school, and to give B a few more leisurely weeks of preschool before “real” school starts in the fall), and then take a few more weeks off mid-August (to take a break before getting back into the swing of things at school again).  It was a little different than anything we’ve done before — because Liam was previously always home with me, we took previous summers as a chance to take a break from the 40-minute-each-way commute every weekday and kept both boys home together with me all summer.  And although I’ve loved that, I was looking forward to being able to do it differently this year — our only chance to do it this way, because next summer, and all subsequent summers, B will have regular summer school holidays, so he’ll be home and we’ll probably keep Liam home as well.

Then, just yesterday, they told us no.

No, the boys can’t come in for a few weeks mid-summer — could we please keep them home all summer instead?  We said that of course they could stay home, but because this was in German and Dan didn’t completely understand, we didn’t really understand why.  As it turns out, they’re going to be very short-staffed for those weeks, so they’ve asked that all of the families that have at least one stay-at-home parent to keep their kids home.  And though I don’t mind, I can’t help but find the whole situation a little funny … and I don’t think it’s something we’d be as likely to run into back in the States.

So, new plan for the summer: as of June 27, the boys will be home with me until B starts elementary school in late August.  And I am truly and sincerely happy to have them.  We’ll have a great time, just like we have our other summers here.

Stranger danger

Life in Vienna is very, very safe.  Even though it is a major capital city, crime here is minimal.  Bikes get stolen a lot.  Homes get broken into when people are away on vacation.  Pick-pocketing is not unheard of (but not as frequent as the legions of reverse-backpacking-wearing tourists seem to fear).  And that’s pretty much it.  Muggings, assaults and other violent crimes are very nearly unheard of.  Children take public transportation alone, often as young as about 8 years old.  Groups of young girls walk dark streets safely late at night.  I’ve never been in a situation in Vienna where I feared for my safety.

Coming from the US, this was a complete culture shock for me.  Even living in an affluent suburb of Washington, DC, I always made sure to park under a street light and check my surroundings before getting out of my car and walking the few yards to my front door.  So I still have to remind myself to not be horrified when I see a little boy, barely older than Benjamin, get on an U-Bahn completely alone.  I’m softening, living in Vienna, though.  I don’t worry much about which neighborhood we venture into at night, and I could be pick-pocketed in a heartbeat if someone tried.  (Visiting Rome and Paris were both very stressful for me because I’ve gotten out of the habit of being constantly vigilant, and we really had to be while we were there.)

But still.  I’m a mom, and I want to protect my kids.  And every so often you hear that someone tried to abduct a child or might have been trying to abduct a child or maybe was just talking to a child but you never know.  The way journalism works here compounds my lack of clarity over things like this.  Vienna has two free daily papers which I often find discarded on seats of the U-Bahn and which are just barely not tabloids and which do like to be as overly dramatic as possible (think “The Daily Mail”), an English language online newspaper that updates their headlines every few months (not joking), and other, more typical and respectable newspapers that I never see.  So it’s hard to tell.

We’ve talked some to B, and a very little to Liam, about “stranger danger”.  We felt like we had to have some kind of talk with them about it since they’ve been out in the city on field trips starting at 3 years old.  It’s so hard to talk with them about it.  Trying to instill the requisite caution without terrifying them or destroying all faith in humanity has been tricky, especially with B, who has always been sensitive.  (Liam’s response is usually that he’ll scream at/bite/kick/punch them if they try to talk to him.  And I believe him.)

So when I found out that B’s class was doing a unit this spring about “not going with strangers”, I was worried.  I thought he might come out of it totally freaked out about life and people.  But I also know that it’s important, and his teachers can give him something I can’t — good information about what to say and do In German.  If someone approaches him, I want him to scream, run, fight, WHATEVER, and I don’t want him to freeze because he gets stuck trying to respond in German and doesnt know what to say.

So, they started.  And I kept an eye out for signs of worry or trauma — sleepless nights, nightmares, general worry — and I was prepared to answer any questions he might have.  But none came.  He seemed fine.  Not worried or anxious.

The weeks went on, and I still saw no worry or stress in him.  I asked him about it, and he replied, very matter-of-factly, that they were learning to say “Stop!” if someone tried to get them to go anywhere, and that they shouldn’t go off with anyone, even if that person had a picture of a dog or said they knew their mom or dad (all good information).  He seemed to really be learning, and to not be freaked out at all.

Yesterday, B’s class hosted a party for all of their families, and, as part of it, they put on a series of skits to show us what they have learned about strangers.  We all went to watch.  Again, I was a little anxious that it would be scary or traumatic (to the kids or the parents), but it wasn’t.  The kids were very good at demonstrating what they’d learned, and so proud to show us all.  B played the part of a kid whose playmate gets dragged away by a stranger — it was his job to go tell the “mom” what happened.  The kids were very confident and full of smiles.  I don’t know how the teachers did it, but they managed to make the whole thing very positive and empowering.  I am truly impressed.  (And, of course, I think B was amazing and impressive.  I am so proud of him for how happily and confidently he exists at his school in a language he’s still just learning to speak!  He did GREAT!)

And then, after the performances, we all gathered for cake that the kids had made themselves.  We had a great and fun afternoon.  I am so proud of my boy for learning so much and for being so grown up, and I am infinitely grateful to his teachers and the magic they manage to work with these kids.

Kindergarten or first grade?

We didn’t expect to be here so long.  We thought that by now, we’d be home already, or at least headed home.  Consequently, all of our plans for “real” school for the kids started with “Well, we’ll be home by then …”

When we left the US, our plan was to be in Austria for 1-2 years.  We’ve now been here more than 3, and although we’re psychologically ready to move home, we don’t yet have the opportunity to do so.  Last year, when we were going through the process of deciding whether to stay for this third year, the boys’ educational experience factored heavily.  I liked the idea if B completing preschool (“Kindergarten”, here) with his friends, and I loved the idea of Liam getting to join him at that school for a year.  The fact that this year of preschool, for both boys, would be free to us only heightened its appeal.  Their opportunity for school this past year is a large part of why we’re here now.  It was too good to pass up, and I feel like it was definitely the right decision.  B has really flourished at school this year, found his confidence, become nearly fluent in German and begun to discover which bits of school most ignite his enthusiasm for learning.  Liam has had a fantastic first experience with school, getting to follow in B’s footsteps and hold his hand along the way.

It’s good that we stayed.  I’m glad we did.

But our plan has ALWAYS been to have B home before “real” school started.  This year of school here, called “Vorschule”, is like half-day US kindergarten.  I had hoped to enroll him in full-day kindergarten in the US next fall, giving him a year to adjust to full-day school and to recover from our relocation.  Besides, he’d get to start right along with his classmates and be one of the oldest in his class instead of one of the youngest (he has a mid-July birthday).  So even though he’s definitely bright enough to handle first grade, I was thinking that kindergarten in the US would be right for him next year, and I was hoping that it would be easy to set that up.

But we aren’t in the US.  And however much we miss everyone, we realized a few months ago that without having found work in the US for Dan, we might be staying here a bit longer.  And if we might find ourselves still here this coming August, we need to have a plan for school next year for B.  (Liam can stay right where he is, thankfully, because I think we got the kids into one of the best preschools in Vienna, entirely by good luck.)

When we realized we needed a plan for the fall, we also realized we were entirely behind.  Parents of some of B’s friends had turned in applications to private schools in Vienna as early as last September.  We’d been assuming that we didn’t need to, because we expected that we’d already be home … so we hadn’t done anything.  Not a thing.  We didn’t even know which school we wanted him to attend.

We’re fortunate to have several good options to choose from.  The automatic path would be for B to go from his Viennese preschool straight into first grade in a Viennese primary school.  The instruction would be entirely in German, and, following that path, he would have quickly become completely fluent and bilingual.  The state schools are free (or maybe very nearly so) but, attractive as all of that is, we opted against this, except as a fallback plan.  Our sole objection was a big one — *our* German is insufficient to keep us abreast of the goings on, even at the preschool.  As B advances in his education, I don’t want to be entirely shut out of the process.  Besides, if our eventual plan is to return to the US and enroll him in school there, I think he might get a stronger base for that by learning in English.  I worry a bit that the holes in his ability to understand or communicate in German might prevent him from learning as much as he could, or could lead to frustration as he moves forward.

That decision narrowed our options to the two major English-speaking international schools in Vienna (yep, two) — the Vienna International School and the American International School.

All of this was really weird to me.  First, I honestly never imagined that either of the kids would attend elementary school outside of the US.  It was part of our fundamental thinking from the very beginning of deciding to live abroad — that we were going with enough time to come back before elementary school.  It was part of the PLAN (and oh, how I love a plan)!  Secondly, I absolutely never envisioned my kids attending private school at all.  I was fortunate enough to grow up in an area with some of the best public schools in the US, and, before we moved, we were raising our kids in an area with an equally impressive public school system.  Private school was never really on my radar.  And then, we moved here, and the Vienna public preschool that we got our kids into is amazing.  I just never considered private school.  So I’ve been left to ponder, whether I am really prepared to send my child, who will be just barely 6 years old, to a private school that costs nearly as much per year as college?  (Fortunately for us, the IAEA reimburses most of the expense.)  It’s not at all something I ever imagined we’d be doing.  Yet here we are.

As I’ve said, we were way behind in the process, and initially Benjamin was wait-listed for next year.  A few weeks ago, though, we heard he’d gotten a place for next year for first grade.  And we are beyond thrilled about it.  I truly believe that it’s the right place for him if we’re in the “still in Vienna” situation.

Through the entire admissions process, it was simply assumed that he’d attend first grade next year, based on his age and the fact that we and his teachers raised no concerns that would preclude his placement in first grade.  After all, if he were going to Austrian school next year, he’d go to first grade, and other than his German (which isn’t an issue in an English-speaking school) he’s at a comparable academic, intellectual and emotional level to his peers.  So, first grade.

But, after the admissions hurdle was cleared, I started really thinking about that for the first time — was first grade really the right place for him next year?  Is he ready to go from a half-day Vorschule program to full day first grade?  The kids who are currently attending kindergarten at the international school (the kids who would be his classmates next year) are in full day kindergarten now, but he’s not.  He’ll be one of the youngest and smallest in his class, and, if he’s in first grade, then at whatever point in the next 12 months we get the chance to move back home (Dan’s contract expires next April, so it’ll happen sometime this year) he’ll have to transition from first grade at the international school to first grade in the US.  Wouldn’t that whole transition, which already means 2 new schools in 1 year, be a whole lot easier done in kindergarten than in first grade?  Add to that the fact that B’s best friend, who will also be attending the same school next year, will be in kindergarten next year (he has a November birthday, so his placement in kindergarten was as automatic as B’s was into first grade).  I think it really might be nice for him to make the switch with a friend or two.

These are the questions that I’ve been running around in my head for the past few weeks.

On the other hand . . . do I really want to be one of THOSE parents?  Do I really want to start hovering before my poor kid has even gotten hs foot in the door?  I mean, how typically American can I be?  Besides, he’s a bright kid, and he might be bored in kindergarten.  Maybe it’s time for him to be challenged a little more.  Am I really prepared to start meddling ALREADY?

Apparently I am.  We contacted the admissions counselor at the school and asked whether they would consider switching B’s placement for next year to kindergarten.  And I feel good about the decision.  I do think I’m being a bit meddling and overbearing.  But I also think it’s the right thing for him (I only wish I’d thought of it before we’d gone through the admissions process, because I get the impression it would have been a non-issue if I’d raised it at the beginning).

We don’t know their decision yet.  There’s a meeting of the admissions board next week, and they’re going to discuss it then.  I don’t know if this is a formality or not.  I have no sense of which way the decision is going to go.  But we’ve decided we’re going to fully and happily accept whatever they decide.  We wholeheartedly feel that this school IS the right place for him for next year (if we’re here), and we trust their judgement.  They do this all the time. This school, perhaps more than any other, is thoroughly experienced and well prepared to place a child in the right spot.  They are used to assimilating kids from all over the world and a wide variety of educational backgrounds, from the US and Japan, from Finland and Kenya.  They’re used to kids who speak different languages, who have only been home-schooled previously, kids with different learning challenges, and kids who have collected pieces of education in a variety of countries around the world.  We are going to trust their decision, and whatever they choose, we’ll go with it.